ID00 Serif + ID00 Sans + + + ID00 Serif Round ID00 Sans ... - Playtype

PLAYTYPE 

Playtype | Vesterbrogade 80 B | 1620 Copenhagen V | Denmark 

http://www.playtype.com 

1 

All Fonts are in this format: Opentype 

ID00 Serif + 

ID00 Sans + 

+ 

+ 

ID00 Serif Round 

ID00 Sans Round 

Design: Jonas Hecksher 

Published: 2010 

Version no. 1.001/2010 

33 STYLES 

4 FAMILIES 

FAMILIES 

Id00 SANS 

ID00 SANS ROUND 

ID00 SERIF 

ID00 SERIF ROUND 

Playtype is an online type foundry and concept 

store, created as a place to play, a home for 

experimentation and a showcase of our craft. 

ID00 FAMILY

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Family 



2 

Design: Jonas Hecksher | Published: 2010 All Fonts are in this format: Opentype 

ID00 Family 

ID00 Sans Light 

ID00 Serif Book 

ID00 Sans Round Light 

ID00 Sans Light Italic 

ID00 Serif Book Italic 

ID00 Sans Round Book 

ID00 Sans Book 

ID00 Serif Regular 

ID00 Sans Round Regular 

ID00 Sans Book Italic 

ID00 Serif Italic 

ID00 Sans Regular 

ID00 Serif DemiBold 

ID00 Serif Round Light 

ID00 Sans Italic 

ID00 Serif DemiBold Italic 

ID00 Serif Round Book 

ID00 Sans DemiBold 

ID00 Serif Bold 

ID00 Serif Round Regular 

ID00 Sans DemiBold Italic 

ID00 Serif Bold Italic 

ID00 Serif Round DemiBold 

ID00 Sans Bold 

ID00 Serif Extra Bold 

ID00 Sans Bold Italic 

ID00 Serif Extra Bold Italic 

ID00 Sans Extra Bold 

ID00 Serif Heavy 

ID00 Sans Extra Bold Italic 

ID00 Serif Heavy Italic 

ID00 Sans Heavy 

ID00 Sans Heavy Italic

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 



3 


ID00 Sans 


ID00 Serif 




n n n n n n n 

n n n n n n n 

n n n n n n 

n n n n n n 

n n n 

n n n n

PLAYTYPE 




4 


UPPERCASE 

LOVERCASE 

STANDARD PUNCTUATION 

MATH SYMBOLS 

CURRENCY & SYMBOLS 

PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 

& PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 

SUPERSCRIPT, SUBSCRIPT, NUMERATORS & DENOMINATORS 

PREBUILT FRACTIONS 

ACCENTED UPPERCASE 

ACCENTED LOVERCASE 

ACCENTS 

LIGATURES 

STYLISTIC ALTERNATES (S#01) 

UPPERCASE PUNCTUATION (S#02) 

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ 

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 

{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡ 

¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈° 

$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮ 

0123456789 0123456789 

0123456789 0123456789 

⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 

½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞ 

ÆŒØÁÀÂÄÃÅĀĄĂÇĆČĈĊĎĐÐÉÈÊËĒĚĖĘĔĜĠĢĞĦĤÍÎÌÏIĨĬĮĪĴĶ 

ĻĿĹŁĽŊÑŃŇŅNÓÒÔÖÕŌŐØŎŔŘŖŠŚȘŞŜSSŤŢŦÚÙÛÜŪŲŮŰŬŨ 

ŴẂẄẀŸÝŶỲŹŽŻÞĲ 

æœøáàâäãåāąăçćčĉċďđðéèêëēěėęĕĝġģğħĥíîìïıĩĭįīĵķ 

ļŀĺłľŋñńňņŉóòôöõōőøŏŕřŗšśșşŝßťţŧúùûüūųůűŭũŵẃẅẁÿýŷỳźžżþſĸĳ 

`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ 

fb fh fi fj fk fl ff ffb ffh ffi ffj ffk ffl 

Q 

H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— &R

PLAYTYPE 




5 


UPPERCASE 

LOVERCASE 


MATH SYMBOLS 


PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL 

OLDSTYLE & PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 





ACCENTS 

LIGATURES 





{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡ 

¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈° 

$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮ 

0123456789 0123456789 

0123456789 0123456789 

⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 

½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞ 






`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ 


Q 

H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— &R

PLAYTYPE 




6 


UPPERCASE 

LOVERCASE 


MATH SYMBOLS 


PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 

& PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 





ACCENTS 

LIGATURES 






{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡ 

¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈° 

$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮ 

0123456789 0123456789 

0123456789 0123456789 

⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 

½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞ 






`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ 


&gĝğġģkķ 

H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— 

QRŔŖŘ

PLAYTYPE 




7 


UPPERCASE 

LOVERCASE 


MATH SYMBOLS 


PROPORTIONAL LINING (DEFAULT FIGURES), PROPORTIONAL 

OLDSTYLE & PROPORTIONAL OLDSTYLE 





ACCENTS 

LIGATURES 






{[(_)]}*,.:;¿¡?&@/|¦\•®©«»‹›“”‘’‚„”’…-–—†‡ 

¬+≠≤≥±÷−×∞~≈° 

$¢ƒ£¥€§√#∫π%‰∑◊∏∂∆µΩªº ℮ 

0123456789 0123456789 

0123456789 0123456789 

⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁄⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 ⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸9 

½⅓¼¾⅔⅛⅜⅝⅞ 






`´¨ˆ˜˘˙ˉ˚¸˝˛ˇ 


&gĝğġģkķ 

H ¿¡?@«»‹›-–— 

QRŔŖŘ

PLAYTYPE 




8 


24/25 The warm 

leather embrace 

of the cab creaks 

ominously to the 

rhythm of the street. 

I rest my head on 

the cool glass. 

18/19 The harsh curves of the 

neon city exploding on my 

closed eyelids as the combination 

of Xanax and jet-lag 

slowly deadens my limbs. 

“Rest” I mouth. Then oblivion. 

cursive, punctuating the i with a 

small heart. 

14/15 The tattoo guns passes around 

the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ in 

blue biro ink laughing hysterically as 

the machine purrs across his forearm. 

I can see Melissa through the open 

door to the bathroom, perched on 

the toilet, a pair of boys briefs around 

her ankles, absentmindedly smoking 

a cigarette and blowing smoke rings; 

O followed by Q followed by Q 

12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, more 

novels. More pages and clammy business 

cards passed of in moist handshakes. More 

Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees 

and more people to please. More dusty 

blond boys and speedos. I flick my aviators 

down and read the street signs. 

settle on the duck since 

it strikes me as funny 

somehow. She picks her 

teeth and nods. 

8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab door 

snaps me back and I nervously 

glance up at the departures 

sign. Numerals slither rapidly 

as I scan the board. SK402 to 

Copenhagen. Exhausted i push 

through security – belt, shoes, 

watch, laptop and slump down 

at the nearest bar. I slip out my 

credit card, leaving it on the bar 

and pick at the polaroid with 

Melissa´s number on the back. 

8 digits, XXX and Melissa with a 

heart doting the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklmno 

pqrstuvwxyz abcdefgh 

ijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 

1234567890 

This is dummy text. it is intended 

to be read but have 

no apparent meaning. as a 

simulation of actual copy, 

using ordinary words with 

normal letter frequencies, it 

cannot deceive eye or brain. 

6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if the 

words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be 

said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of 

the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words 

separate from medium? 

9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, but 

never smarter than his script. 

»the philosophy of type« 

16/17 I ask her her name, straining 

to hear above the slow drone 

coming from the PA. She grabs 

my arm and inscribes »Melissa« 

on it in neat, tightly-spaced 

10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m funny. 

I want to be funny. Only each time the punch-line 

falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing between 

the menu and the fois gras printed out in rounded 

serifs and the waiter laughing politely, anxiously. I 

Playtype is an online type foundry and concept store, 

created as a place to play, a home for experimentation 

and a showcase of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Light Italic 



9 
















small heart. 




















somehow. She picks her 

teeth and nods. 













8 digits, XXX and Melissa with 

a heart doting the i. 




1234567890 










said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox 

of the typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? 

Words separate from medium? 









10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m funny. 

I want to be funny. Only each time the punch-line 

falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing between 

the menu and the fois gras printed out in rounded 

serifs and the waiter laughing politely, anxiously. I 




PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Book 



10 









18/19 The harsh curves of 

the neon city exploding on 

my closed eyelids as the 

combination of Xanax and 

jet-lag slowly deadens my 

limbs. “Rest” I mouth. Then 

oblivion. 


to hear above the slow 

drone coming from the PA. 

She grabs my arm and inscribes 

»Melissa« on it in neat, tightlyspaced 

cursive, punctuating the 

i with a small heart. 


the table- A kid etches out ‘MOMS’ 

in blue biro ink laughing hysterically 

as the machine purrs across his forearm. 

I can see Melissa through the 

open door to the bathroom, perched 

on the toilet, a pair of boys briefs 

around her ankles, absentmindedly 

smoking a cigarette and blowing 

smoke rings; O followed by Q 

followed by Q 

12/13 More days in daze. More scripts, 

more novels. More pages and clammy business 

cards passed of in moist handshakes. 

More Melissa. More pointless shopping 

sprees and more people to please. More 

dusty blond boys and speedos. I flick my 

aviators down and read the street signs. 

10/12 I keep on cracking 

jokes, right? Because 

I’m funny. I want to be 

funny. Only each time 

the punch-line falls 

flat. My delivery is off. I 

keep glancing between 

the menu and the fois 

gras printed out in 

rounded serifs and the 

waiter laughing politely, 

anxiously. I settle on 

the duck since it strikes 

me as funny somehow. 

She picks her teeth and 

nods. 





as I scan the board. SK402 

to Copenhagen. Exhausted i 

push through security – belt, 

shoes, watch, laptop and 

slump down at the nearest 

bar. I slip out my credit card, 

leaving it on the bar and pick 

at the polaroid with Melissa´s 

number on the back. 8 digits, 

XXX and Melissa with a heart 

doting the i. 




1234567890 

This is dummy text. it is 

intended to be read but 

have no apparent meaning. 

as a simulation of actual 

copy, using ordinary words 

with normal letter frequencies, 

it cannot deceive eye 

or brain. 












PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Book Italic 



11 





















small heart. 





























anxiously. I settle on the 

duck since it strikes me 

as funny somehow. She 

picks her teeth and nods. 


















1234567890 



















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Regular 



12 















oblivion. 



drone coming from the PA. She 

grabs my arm and inscribes 


cursive, punctuating 

the i with a small heart. 

14/15 The tattoo guns passes 

around the table- A kid etches out 

‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing 

hysterically as the machine purrs 

across his forearm. I can see Melissa 

through the open door to the bathroom, 

perched on the toilet, a pair 

of boys briefs around her ankles, 

absentmindedly smoking a cigarette 

and blowing smoke rings; O 

followed by Q followed by Q 


more novels. More pages and clammy 

business cards passed of in moist handshakes. 

More Melissa. More pointless 

shopping sprees and more people to 

please. More dusty blond boys and speedos. 

I flick my aviators down and read the 

street signs. 
















nods. 

8/10 The ‘clack’ of the cab 

door snaps me back and I 

nervously glance up at the 

departures sign. Numerals 

slither rapidly as I scan the 

board. SK402 to Copenhagen. 

Exhausted i push through 

security – belt, shoes, watch, 

laptop and slump down at 

the nearest bar. I slip out my 

credit card, leaving it on the 

bar and pick at the polaroid 

with Melissa´s number on 

the back. 8 digits, XXX and 

Melissa with a heart doting 

the i. 




1234567890 





copy, using ordinary 

words with normal letter 

frequencies, it cannot 

deceive eye or brain. 


words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery 

be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist 

paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate from 

meaning? Words separate from medium? 

9/11 Smart as a whip: the typographer, 

but never smarter than his script. 




experimentation and a showcase of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 




13 





















small heart. 






door to the bathroom, perched on the 

toilet, a pair of boys briefs around her 

ankles, absentmindedly smoking a 

cigarette and blowing smoke rings; 





Melissa. More pointless shopping sprees and 

more people to please. More dusty blond 

boys and speedos. I flick my aviators down 

and read the street signs. 

































1234567890 







cannot 













PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans DemiBold 



14 















oblivion. 

















and blowing smoke rings; 







please. More dusty blond boys and 

speedos. I flick my aviators down and 

read the street signs. 
















nods. 
















the i. 




1234567890 




















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans DemiBold Italic 



15 















oblivion. 





on it in neat, tightly-spaced cursive, 

punctuating the i with a 

small heart. 











followed by Q 























nods. 












with Melissa´s number on the 

back. 8 digits, XXX and Melissa 

with a heart doting the i. 




1234567890 







it cannot 













PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Bold 



16 















oblivion. 

16/17 I ask her her name, 

straining to hear above the 

slow drone coming from 

the PA. She grabs my arm and 

inscribes »Melissa« on it in 

neat, tightly-spaced cursive, 

punctuating the i with a small 

heart. 











followed by Q followed by Q 
























nods. 
















the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklmn 

opqrstuvwxyz abcde 

fghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 

1234567890 




















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Bold Italic 



17 















oblivion. 





inscribes »Melissa« on it in neat, 

tightly-spaced cursive, punctuating 












followed by Q 























nods. 









laptop and slump down at the 

nearest bar. I slip out my credit 

card, leaving it on the bar 








1234567890 




as a simulation of 

actual copy, using ordinary 















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans ExtraBold 



18 






rhythm of the 

street. I rest my 

head on the cool 

glass. 







oblivion. 



slow drone coming from the 

PA. She grabs my arm and inscribes 

»Melissa« on it in neat, 

tightly-spaced cursive, punctuating 







through the open door to the 

bathroom, perched on the toilet, 

a pair of boys briefs around her 














I’m funny. I want 

to be funny. Only each 

time the punch-line 

falls flat. My delivery 

is off. I keep glancing 

between the menu and 

the fois gras printed 

out in rounded serifs 

and the waiter laughing 

politely, anxiously. 

I settle on the duck 

since it strikes me as 

funny somehow. She 

picks her teeth and 

nods. 







Exhausted i push 

through security – belt, 



bar. I slip out my credit 


and pick at the polaroid 




the i. 




1234567890 









6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And if 

the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery 


paradox of the typographer; can type ever be separate 

from meaning? Words separate from medium? 







PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans ExtraBold Italic 



19 















oblivion. 




PA. She grabs my arm and 




heart. 




































nods. 

















the i. 




1234567890 




















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Heavy 



20 






rhythm of the 



glass. 


the neon city exploding 

on my closed eyelids as 

the combination of Xanax 

and jet-lag slowly deadens 

my limbs. “Rest” I mouth. 

Then oblivion. 








heart. 









ankles, absentmindedly smoking 

a cigarette and blowing smoke 

rings; O followed by Q followed 

by Q 







speedos. I flick my aviators down. 

10/12 I keep on 

cracking jokes, right? 

Because I’m funny. 

I want to be funny. 

Only each time the 

punch-line falls flat. 

My delivery is off. I 


the menu and the 

fois gras printed out 

in rounded serifs and 

the waiter laughing 






nods. 

















the i. 




1234567890 









6/8 But can words ever be said to have no meaning? And 

if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s 

delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the 

existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type ever be 

separate from meaning? Words separate from medium? 







PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Heavy Italic 



21 






rhythm of the 



glass. 

18/19 The harsh curves 

of the neon city exploding 

on my closed eyelids 

as the combination of 

Xanax and jet-lag slowly 

deadens my limbs. “Rest” 

I mouth. Then oblivion. 








small heart. 




hysterically as the machine 

purrs across his forearm. I can see 

Melissa through the open door to 

the bathroom, perched on the toilet, 

a pair of boys briefs around 

her ankles, absentmindedly 



followed by Q 














My delivery is off. 

I keep glancing between 

the menu and 









nods. 

















the i. 




1234567890 

This is dummy text. it 

is intended to be read 

but have no apparent 

meaning. as a simulation 

of actual copy, using 

ordinary words with 

normal letter frequencies, 

it cannot 




delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist 

paradox of the typographer; can type ever be 








PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Book 



22 














limbs. “Rest” I mouth. 









small heart. 











O followed by Q followed by Q. 










jokes, right? 









rounded serifs and 


politely, anxiously. I 



somehow. She picks 

her teeth and nods. 


door snaps me back and 

I nervously glance up at 

the departures sign. 

Numerals slither rapidly 

as I scan the board. SK402 

to Copenhagen. Exhausted 

i push through security 

– belt, shoes, watch, laptop 

and slump down at the 

nearest bar. I slip out my 






the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890 

This is 

dummy text. It is 

intended to be read 







or brain. 


the words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s 





but never smarter than his script. »the 

philosophy of type« 




PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Book Italic 



23 



leather embrace of the 

cab creaks ominously 

to the rhythm of the 

street. I rest my head 

on the cool glass. 




combination of Xanax 









cursive, punctuating the i with 

a small heart. 










O followed by Q Followed by Q. 








10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because I’m 

funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the punchline 

falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing 

between the menu and the fois gras printed out in 

rounded serifs and the waiter laughing politely, 

anxiously. I settle on the duck since it strikes me as 

funny somehow. She picks her teeth and nods. 
















This is 

dummy text. it is intended 

to be read but have no 

apparent meaning. as a 











never smarter than his script. »the philosophy 

of type« 




PLAYTYPE 




24 











my closed eyelids as 












small heart. 





across his forearm. I can see 


the bathroom, perched on the 

toilet, a pair of boys briefs around 

her ankles, absentmindedly 



followed by Q. 























funny somehow. 

She picks her teeth 

and nods. 

















the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklm 

nopqrstuvwxyz 

abcdefghijklmnopqrstu 

vwxyz1234567890 

This is dummy text. 

It is intended to be read 



of actual copy, using ordinary 

words with normal 

letter frequencies, it cannot 










Playtype is an online type foundry and 

concept store, created as a place to play, a 

home for experimentation and a showcase 

of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 




25 










my closed eyelids as the combination 

of Xanax and jetlag 











cigarette and blowing smoke rings; O 

followed by Q Followed by Q. 























This is 









words have no meaning cannot the medium of it’s delivery be said 

to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist paradox of the 

typographer; can type ever be separate from meaning? Words 










cursive, punctuating the i with 

a small heart. 


funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the punchline 

falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing 

between the menu and the fois gras printed out in 

rounded serifs and the waiter laughing politely, 

anxiously. I settle on the duck since it strikes me as 

funny somehow. She picks her teeth and nods. 




PLAYTYPE 




26 











on my closed eyelids as the 












small heart. 











O followed by Q followed by O. 











Because I’m funny. I 

want to be funny. 






























the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz1234567890 


is intended to be read but 


















of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif DemiBold Italic 



27 















oblivion. 











toilet, a pair of boys briefs around 



O followed by Q Followed by Q. 












the punch-line falls flat. 

























the i. 


This is 







it cannot deceive eye or 

brain. 











slow drone coming from the PA. 




PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Bold 



28 























small heart. 





across his forearm. I can see 
















jokes, right? 














funny somehow. 


and nods. 

















the i. 


nopqrstuvwxyz 


vwxyz1234567890 







letter frequencies, it 

cannot deceive eye or 

brain. 












of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif BoldItalic 



29 














oblivion. 



slow drone coming from the PA. 


»Melissa« on it in neat, tightly 

spaced cursive, punctuating the 





as the machine purrs across his 

forearm. I can see Melissa through 

the open door to the bathroom, 

perched on the toilet, a pair of boys 

briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly 

smoking a cigarette and 

blowing smoke rings; O followed by 

Q followed by O. 






please. More dusty blond boys and s 

peedos. I flick my aviators down and 



jokes, right? 















nods. 
















the i. 

14/17 abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 


1234567890 This is dummy 

text. it is intended to be 

read but have no apparent 


of actual copy, using ordinary 













concept store, created as a place to play, 

a home for experimentation and a showcase 

of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif ExtraBold 



30 





ominously to 

the rhythm of 

the street. I rest 

my head on the 

cool glass. 















small heart. 


around the table- A kid etches 

out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink 

laughing hysterically as the 

machine purrs across his forearm. 

I can see Melissa through 


perched on the toilet, a pair of 

boys briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly 

smoking a cigarette 












jokes, right? 







the menu and 









nods. 

















the i. 


nopqrstuvwxyz 


vwxyz 1234567890 


is intended to be read 






it cannot deceive 

eye or brain. 












of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif ExtraBold Italic 



31 























heart. 



out ‘MOMS’ in blue biro ink laughing 

hysterically as the machine 

purrs across his forearm. I can see 






O followed by Q followed by O. 










jokes, right? 

Because I’m funny. I 

want to be funny. Only 

each time the punchline 

falls flat. My 

delivery is off. I keep 

glancing between the 

menu and the fois gras 

printed out in rounded 

serifs and the waiter 

laughing politely, 





and nods. 











bar. I slip out my credit card, 

leaving it on the bar and 

pick at the polaroid with 

Melissa´s number on the 

back. 8 digits, XXX 

and Melissa with a heart 

doting the i. 


nopqrstuvwxyz 


1234567890 


is intended to be read but 

















a home for experimentation and a showcase 

of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Heavy 



32 






rhythm of the 



glass. 



on my closed eyelids 

as the combination of 

Xanax and jet-lag slowly 

deadens my limbs. “Rest” 

I mouth. Then oblivion. 








small heart. 




laughing hysterically as the 

machine purrs across his forearm. 

I can see Melissa through 



boys briefs around her ankles, 

absentmindedly smoking a 

cigarette and blowing smoke 

rings; O followed by Q 




business cards passed of in moist 

handshakes. More Melissa. More 

pointless shopping sprees and more 

people to please. More dusty blond 

boys and speedos. 

I flick my aviators 

down and read 

the street signs. 









the menu and 




politely, 

anxiously. I settle 

on the duck since it 

strikes me as funny 
















nopqrstuvwxyz ab 

cdefghijklmnopqrstuv 

wxyz 1234567890 

This is dummy text. 

it is intended to be read 



of actual copy, 

using ordinary words 

with normal letter 




if the words have no meaning cannot the medium of 

it’s delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is 

the existentialist paradox of the typographer; can type 

ever be separate from meaning? Words separate from 

medium? 

9/11 Smart as a whip: the 

typographer, but never smarter 

than his script. »the philosophy 

of type« 



a home for experimentation and a 

showcase of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Heavy Italic 



33 






rhythm of the 


head on the 

cool glass. 















heart. 




laughing hysterically as the machine 

purrs across his forearm. 


open door to the bathroom, 


boys briefs around her ankles, 

absentmindedly smoking a 

cigarette and blowing smoke 

rings; O followed by Q 








speedos. I flick my 

aviators down 

and read the street 

signs. 


jokes, right? 






























nopqrstuvwxyzabc 

defghijklmnopqrstuvwx 

yz 1234567890 











delivery be said to be equally meaningless. This is the existentialist 

paradox of the typographer; can type ever be 






store, created as a place to play, a home 

for experimentation and a showcase 

of our craft.

PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Round Light 



34 



leather embrace of 

the cab creaks 

















small heart. 













































8 digits, XXX and Melissa with a 

heart doting the i. 


opqrstuvwxyz abcdef 

ghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 

1234567890 















of type« 


created as a place to play, a home for 


PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Round Book 



35 















oblivion. 









































nods. 



















1234567890 








or brain. 








of type« 


created as a place to play, a home for 


PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Sans Round Regular 



36 















oblivion. 


























street signs. 
















nods. 
















the i. 




1234567890 




















PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Round Light 



37 















oblivion. 


















followed by O. 








street signs. 
















nods. 



















1234567890 







frequencies, it cannot deceive 

eye or brain. 












PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Round Book 



38 















oblivion. 











as the machine purrs across his 

forearm. I can see Melissa through 


perched on the toilet, a pair of boys 

briefs around her ankles, absentmindedly 

smoking a cigarette and 

blowing smoke rings; O followed by 

Q followed by O. 








street signs. 
















nods. 
















the i. 




1234567890 








eye or brain. 












PLAYTYPE 




39 















oblivion. 



drone coming from the PA. She 

grabs my arm and inscribes 














followed by Q followed by O. 
























nods. 
















the i. 




1234567890 








eye or brain. 












PLAYTYPE 

ID00 Serif Round DemiBold 



40 






rhythm of the 



glass. 















heart. 









ankles, absentmindedly smoking 

a cigarette and blowing smoke 

rings; O followed by Q followed 

by O. 









jokes, right? 





My delivery is off. 

I keep glancing between 

the menu and 









nods. 

















the i. 




1234567890 








eye or brain. 












PLAYTYPE 




41 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




42 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




43 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




44 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




45 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




46 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




47 


Big play

PLAYTYPE 




48 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




49 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




50 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




51 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




52 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




53 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




54 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




55 


Big play

PLAYTYPE 




56 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




57 


Big play 

Big play

PLAYTYPE 




58 







tightly-spaced cursive. 








of boys briefs around her ankles. 













bathroom, perched on the toilet, a 

pair of boys briefs around her. 

24/25 

The warm 

leather 

embrace 

of the cab 

creaks 


















shopping sprees and more people. 






14/15 I rest my 

head on the 

cool glass. 


funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the 

punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing 

between the menu and the fois gras printed 

out in rounded serifs and the waiter laughing. 

10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because 

I’m funny. I want to be funny. Only each time 

the punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep 

glancing between the menu and the fois gras 

printed out in rounded serifs and the waiter.

PLAYTYPE 




59 















of boys briefs around her ankles. 














of boys briefs around her. 

24/25 

The warm 

leather 

embrace 

of the cab 

creaks 
























14/15 I rest my 

head on the 

cool glass. 


funny. I want to be funny. Only each time the 

punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep glancing 

between the menu and the fois gras printed 

out in rounded serifs and the waiter laughing. 

10/12 I keep on cracking jokes, right? Because 

I’m funny. I want to be funny. Only each time 

the punch-line falls flat. My delivery is off. I keep 

glancing between the menu and the fois gras 

printed out in rounded serifs and the waiter.

ID00 Serif + ID00 Sans + + + ID00 Serif Round ID00 Sans ... - Playtype

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